Denied Existence
by grey within black
Summary: Without him, he's nothing. yaoi.
1. Default Chapter

…_Pain, utter pain, burning through his arm just as Voldemort's eyes burned through his head, seemingly reading his every thought and feeling…won't it stop burning?! Searing through him, making him forget who he was, making him believe the pain would go on forever, had been going on forever. He couldn't escape, he'd never escape. The only thing he knew was he must not scream, he must not cry, for that was what weaklings did and he would never be weak…._

"Draco?" The blonde didn't reply, his eyes were squeezed shut, his forehead beaded with sweat.

"Draco!" Madam Pomfrey shook him. Still, he wouldn't wake. Finally she slapped him. "Mr. Malfoy! Wake up this instant!"

Draco's eyes flew open; unshed tears dotting his pale lashes. They were wide, the gaze abstracted with terror.

"No! No! Stop! I don't want this!" he screamed, his hand painfully clamped over his left arm, the long silk sleeve crumpling under his fingers. His voice was harsh, startling Madam Pomfrey so much that she stumbled back, her arm knocking over one of the vases.

His voice subsided into a whimper, "Don't want this. Never wanted this." He started rocking back and forth, still clutching his arm in a death grip.

"No." he rocked forward, "No." he rocked back.

His eyes were wide and glazed, the pupils dilated to pinpoints of remembered pain.

Madam Pomfrey recovered from her shock and backed away slowly, carefully, so as not to alarm him. Dumbledore had warned her that this kind of behavior could possibly occur more and more after Voldemort's return. As soon as she got out the door, she turned and ran to the Headmaster's office.

Draco took no notice, his eyes looking past her, past the hospital ward, seeing once again those eyes…the Dark Lord's eyes…whimpering, he shrank back, covered his eyes. But he couldn't escape them, they searched him out, forced him to see their horribly lurid red glow. They were laughing at him! Mocking, terrible laughter filled his ears, and he couldn't escape.

You are weak.

Eyes clenched shut, his hands unsuccessfully trying to block out that terrible derisive laughter; Draco lay there, tears flowing unchecked down his cheeks.

"Malfoy?"

Cool hands upon his own, trying to pry them off his ears.

"Crying…?" the voice muttered, a note of incredulity in his tone, as whoever it was noticed the tear tracks on Draco's cheeks.

Draco's hands were grasped tightly in a firm, warm hand, effectively holding them still.

The laughter seemed to subside in the tortured youth's mind as a clear voice cut through that ghastly laughter, making it fade away. He couldn't place where it came from but it was soothing, comforting, and he allowed his eyes to open, just a crack, in case this was a trick of his "Dark Lord's".

Instead of seeing red, he saw green…emerald green-no, emeralds were gems and gems were hard in their beauty- they were gentle with concern and they reminded Draco of the dew-dropped leaves on flowers, or on trees.

"M-Draco? Are you okay?"

That voice, as gentle as his eyes….

"Draco?"

Draco just kept staring at Harry Potter, as if never seeing him before, "Gentle, gently now…" he giggled, the movement of his mouth ungainly.

The seemingly insane blonde continued staring at Harry, then traced the scar on Harry's forehead, "Scarred…marked…me too, me too!"

Harry turned away for a second, and as Draco lost sight of those eyes, the red reappeared and he began to whimper. Harry turned back, holding a vial.

"Here. Drink this," he said.

Draco didn't want to, it might be poison…those red eyes were still there, lurking….

"Please?" Harry asked helplessly.

Draco, seeing the frustration he was causing in those beautiful gentle eyes nodded resignedly and took the vial.

If it were a poison, the better it would be for everyone else, he thought wryly, before gulping it down.

Draco sank into darkness, those green eyes the last bit of color he saw.

Harry stared down at the sleeping boy, who finally seemed to be at peace, and sighed. How different he looked when he was asleep…the arrogant, spoiled brat was no more, and in its place was this beautiful…child.

He sighed and sat back, running his hand through his dark hair. When would he stop thinking things like that?! Beautiful…yes, Draco was…argh!

He silently fumed to himself, even as he subconsciously smoothed down the sheets, fluffed up Draco's pillow, and tucked in the blankets around him.

How did he manage to screw his life up so bad?

Sighing again, he bonked his head softly on the wall.

Oh yes, very smart Harry--kill whatever few brain cells you have left, he thought sarcastically.

A few hours ago he could safely say that he only liked Draco a little and that was because his superficial hormones liked how he looked. But a few hours ago he hadn't been hit by a Bludger, hadn't fallen off his broom (again), and been sent immediately to Madam Pomfrey to heal his leg. A few hours ago he hadn't seen Draco Malfoy crying, rocking, his eyes crushed shut, and in obvious pain. A few hours ago he hadn't seen Draco actually happy to see him.

Harry glanced at the vial that lay, half-full of Sleeping Draught, next to Draco's prone body.

Maybe I should drink some, too…he mused to himself, and then I could pretend nothing happened…or that it was just a dream.

The dark-haired "hero" grabbed the vial and lifted it to his lips, drank it, and fell asleep, one arm outstretched, his fingers slightly brushing Draco's. Unconsciously, Draco took the offered hand and held it tightly.


	2. denied existence

Wasted -2-  
  
A frantic, and therefore, nonsensical Madam Pomfrey led the headmaster to the hospital wing, wringing her hands and shaking her head despairingly. *  
  
"Severus sent him here, said that the boy had a headache, he seemed fine, but all things are not as they seem, right Albus? Right?! What it seems like happened to Malfoy couldn't have happened, could it?"  
  
Having no idea whatsoever what she was babbling about, he opened the door and peeked in, expecting chaos. But all he saw were two boys; one in bed, one kneeling next to it, both asleep.  
  
He gently closed the door and turned to Pomfrey, "Poppy! I didn't know you were homophobic!"  
  
"What are you talking about, Professor? I have nothing against homosexuals...Didn't you see Mr. Malfoy? How he was acting...well, different?" Pomfrey said, apparently confused.  
  
"Potter must have calmed him down. He'll be fine. Good day." And with that, Dumbledore turned and walked away.  
  
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Blink.  
  
Blink.  
  
Harry's eyes slowly opened, his vission blurred. Stretching out his hand, he felt around for his glasses. Finally, his fingers grasped the frame and pushed his glasses onto his nose. It was then that he noticed, rather bemusedly, that another hand was attached to his own. It took a moment or this information to penetrate Harry's half-asleep mind. Then...  
  
"What the-?!" he half shrieked, hastily trying to pull his hand out of the firm grip, but it seemed as if Draco didn't want to let go.  
  
Harry looked around furtively, trying not to panic, which was extremely hard, seeing as a bunch of panic-inducing thoughts kept running through his mind.  
  
What if someone saw him holding Draco Malfoy's hand? What would they say? What would they think? They would say and think he was gay, that's what! And everyone would shun him, Ron would be disgusted, Hermione would try to be "understanding" while inside she would also be disgusted, his room mates would probably kick him out of the dormitory, scared he wouldn't be able to "keep his hands to himself".  
  
It would be worse than those times in 2nd and 4th year when everyone had been distrustful and hated him.....  
  
Again, he tried to pull his hand out, but still had no luck. He was about to dump a conveniently placed bucket of ice water over his head when he happened to look at Draco's face. And then he didn't have the heart to wipe that peaceful and beautiful expression on his face.  
  
And, Harry reluncantly admitted, it felt nice, really nice. He sat on the bed, staring down at Draco's face for about 2 minutes.  
  
He sighed. It didn't matter how nice it felt, or how pretty Draco looked right then. Any moment someone could walk in the door and ruin his life.  
  
Gently, he tried to pry Draco's fingers off, but they just curled back, as tight as ever. Frustrated, Harry ran his free hand through his hair, wondering how he could wake up Draco without being hexed or jinxed.  
  
It was then that he saw the Dark Mark.  
  
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Blink.  
  
Blink.  
  
Draco's eyes slowly opened to look directly into glass covered green ones alight with fury. He saw that Harry was sitting on his bed, his hand clasped in Draco's.  
  
Draco yawned, closed his eyes.  
  
/What a weird dream.../  
  
Harry's hand reached out and punched Draco on the shoulder.  
  
Draco woke with a start. "It wasn't a dream!" Quickly, he dropped Harry's hand. "Potter! What were you holding my hand for?!"  
  
Harry glared and spoke, "You held my hand, not the other way around. I've spent about ten minutes trying to get my hand out of yours. And I've spent the last two wondering WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE A DARK MARK?!" his voice rose unexpectedly, the tone more jolting than the words.  
  
Draco tried to reply coolly," Why not?" But his voice cracked in the middle, totally ruining it and he felt himself wither under Harry's gaze.  
  
"Well, I don't know, because they helped KILL MY FAMILY AND RUINED SO MANY LIVES?!"Harry hollered sarcastically.  
  
He continued, his voice rising again,"How could you just sit there like you're proud of it or something-"  
  
Draco interrupted him, heatedly retorting, "I'm not proud of it. It's a necessity I have to live with. I didn't choose to take it, after all!"  
  
"Yes, you did. If you didn't, you wouldn't have it!"  
  
"If I didn't, I probably wouldn't be here! I'd probably be dead, lying in the ditch of some Muggle road, because my parents would've kicked me out--"  
  
"It's better to die than to bring death." Harry said quietly, intently, "You shouldn't be a Death Eater! You could've gone to Dumbledore if your parents kicked you out, if you truly didn't want the Dark Mark!"  
  
Draco scoffed, disdain flashing in his eyes, "Dumbledore? Dumbledore?! How would I have got to him? Huh? Even if somehow he knew I was in trouble, he wouldn't help me! Not even for the sake of his golden boy!"  
  
"Of course he would. Dumbledore would help anyone who needed it." Harry said earnestly.  
  
"And even if he did help me he couldn't! Try as he might the old man can't protect me! I knew it was hopeless-"  
  
"He could've!" Harry said.  
  
"Oh yes, of course, just like he "protected" Sirius!" Draco said sarcastically, knowing instantly he had gone too far a second after he said it.  
  
Harry's eyes widened in surprised hurt, "How did you-where'd you hear-" He seemed to be at a loss for words.  
  
Draco could see the torment and pain in those all-too expressive green eyes. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the eyes hardened, and Draco recognized the icy glare they had become.  
  
Draco almost gasped, for he was so used to seeing those eyes only in his mirror, never in someone else's face.  
  
"You know what? Forget it. You don't deserve to exist." Harry said coldly, all trace of emotion wiped out of his voice.  
  
Deliberately casual, Harry turned around and walked out of the hospital wing, leaving Draco staring wide-eyed at the now-empty door.  
  
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.:whaddaya waiting for? CLICK! XD:. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Fleeing from the evil, only to be followed..._.

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Draco's POV

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How could he say such a thing?

"To me, you don't exist anymore." Is that supposed to mean something to me? Is it supposed to worry me that he's going to ignore me? That's pretty much what he meant, wasn't it?

Well, it doesn't. What's got me worried is that he saw my Dark Mark. He's probably running to Dumbledore right now. If he tells anyone, I'm doomed. Everyone would believe Harry fucking Potter and then get Dumbledore to expel me. I'll have to go home to Mother and Father. Father would be furious, all the Death Eaters would look upon me with pity...

I couldn't bear that. I couldn't!

Perhaps...I could bribe the almighty Harry Potter. _I _may not exist to him, but my money might...but no, he has enough money already. What do I have that he doesn't?

Hm. Good looks? Charm? Brains? Wit?

But, I could give him none of those.

I muse upon that for several minutes and I can think of absolutely nothing. I sigh, get out of the bed and walk to my dormitories. I'll just have to wait and see what he would like from me.

It's been weeks. Every day I expect the Professors to converge on me, to order me to be kicked out. But nothing happens. It's so strange; I'd have thought he would've told by now.

I still haven't been able to figure out what to do to keep his mouth shut.

I sigh disconsolately as I plop into my seat for Potions. Usually I'm happy around this time, seeing as how it's my best subject, but today nothing seemed to be going right.

I stare at Professor Snape with bleary eyes, trying to focus.

"Today I want all of you to make 3 simple potions that you've already done and probably forgotten. You will have to find all the ingredients and how to make it. It _should_ be pretty easy, but I never know with this class." Here he sneered," For each of you I have chosen it randomly from all the potions we've done this year. We will test all of them tomorrow."

He started passing out little piece of papers. When I received mine, I groaned:

_Fake Death. (A potion that makes you seem dead when you aren't)_

_Veritaserum (a truth serum)_

_Sobbing Solution. (Used to make you or others cry, for various reasons.)_

Simple?! These were far from simple! All of these were difficult, except perhaps for the last one, even for me. I didn't know how I was going to make all these before tomorrow's potion lesson, but I will try.

I put the vial of Sobbing Solution away, the contents smoking a little. Yawning, I glance at the clock: 3:52. Not even bothering to change into my pajamas, I stumble up the stairs to my dormitory and collapse on my bed.

I dream.

When I wake up, I feel utterly sad and... lonely.

It is a strange emotion, because I have never felt it before. When I was young "Daddy's friends" and their children had surrounded me. I was never alone. Even when I slept at night, a house elf was set there to watch over me, for my father had many enemies. When I got to Hogwarts, Crabbe and Goyle were always there, guarding and threatening.

I don't like this feeling.

As I go through the day, the feeling only intensifies. I realize I am truly surrounded by fools and when I see Harry and his friends, I wonder for a brief second what it would be like to have friends like those.

I am unusually withdrawn today, but no one notices, which makes me feel even lonelier. Though so many students surround me, I am not connected at all with any of them; I don't care what happens to them. No one cares what happens to me. I am the only one utterly and horrifyingly alone.

I walk into Potions with my head bowed; my shoulders slumped, my hair covering my face. I sit down, set up my Potions, all the while keeping my eyes fixed firmly on my hands. I didn't want to see all the happy, chattering, and laughing people. All the people who had something I didn't.

3rd person POV

Draco closed the door to his dorm room and, sighing, rested the back of his head against the door. Silently he cast a spell on his door, ensuring his privacy.

Silently, Draco slid into a sitting position, leaning his head on the door, hugging his legs to himself. He stared ahead through the window, watching the sun set. Watching as darkness enveloped the land, making the trees and mountains, those that were so clear just a few moments ago, disappear.

Silently he began to laugh, his shoulders shaking, laughing so hard that tears streaked down his cheeks the moon making them shine. Tears.

Silent tears.

His laughing-or crying, he didn't know which- stopped as he felt the silence press in upon him, suffocating him.

Silence.

Silence meant he was alone, no one wanted to talk to him, no one would listen to what he said, no one, no one...

Angrily, he stood up and walked swiftly to his desk, wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his robes. The blonde picked up his journal and breathed on the lock. The lock melted. He opened it, took out a quill and stared at the blank page in front of him.

Then, he began to write, the swift scratching of his quill breaking the silence, making it relinquish its hold on Draco.

April 19

I...don't exist.

It's so sad. And rather funny, too. In a sad way. All the Slytherins smirk and sneer at those bedazzled by Potter, and yet they are just as bad as the Muggle-loving fools, if not worse. Potter's blithe silent treatment should not have affected my status, if it was true what they claimed. But it did. Now I am just another face in the crowd of aces, another Slytherin, my superiority left unrecognized. I can't believe Harry-

How strange. I just felt air on my neck, as if someone was standing behind me, reading my journal over my shoulder. But that's impossible; I locked the door with a very strong spell-it's impossible to break for any witch or wizard short of Voldemort.

Voldemort.

Could it be? But no, I guess I'm becoming paranoid, it's probably just the wind or something.

I'll just go and close the window-

--The window was closed. Oh shit, why would Voldemort spy on me? Perhaps he doubts my loyalty...? But what would cause him to do so?

Oh, no...what if what Professor Snape said was true?

Draco stopped writing abruptly, the Potion's Master's voice ringing in his ears, "He'll take and take from you, until you have nothing left but the Death Eaters and him..."

"I don't have anything left." Draco whispered, then his voice rose, "Did you hear that, my _Lord?_" sarcasm dripped off the last word.

"You can't take from me, for I have nothing!" he half-shrieked. "I _am_ nothing! Nothing can only have nothing!" He began to laugh, maniacally, "So what can you take, Lord? My life? It means little to me. My soul? Like I have one. There is nothing you can do to me that has not already been done..."

30 minutes later found Draco slumped on his bed, muttering hoarsely,

"Nothing...nothing...nothing...nothing...nothing..." Silent tears streaking down his face.

"I've bitten the poisoned apple and will now lie in the eternal sleep...nothing now has a name. It's Draco." And his tears began to dry.

Harry sighed, dragging his hand through his hair, "Hermione, can't you just drop it?" he asked, frowning as his fingers caught on a snag in his hair.

Hermione, her tone tired, finally gave up, "Fine. If you don't want to go to the Ball, then I guess it's your choice. I just think you should go." She turned around and climbed through the portrait hole, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

Harry smiled ruefully and began to climb up the stairs to his dorm room.

Ever since April 19th, most everyone had noticed a marked change in Draco Malfoy. He hardly spoke anymore, only dully answering monosyllabically when asked questions he had to answer. His usual impeccable looks became disheveled, his hair becoming almost as greasy as Snape's.

He only did what was absolutely necessary to get a passing grade, always barely squeaking by. After all, he did want to leave the Hellhole that was Hogwarts. He didn't even flinch when all the Howlers from his parents arrived. His eyes always held a dull, empty gaze.

He didn't seem to care, at all. About anything.

On the day of the ball, he found himself going, though it was most certainly not willingly. Professor Flitwick, in a fit of generosity, had said whoever attended the ball would have a passing grade.

An absolute necessity.

Draco lazily waved his wand, turning a uniform robe into a silvery-grey color that matched his eyes. He put it on, ran a comb through his hair, and then went through the common room, straight towards the Great Hall.

He went directly towards Flitwick and said, "I'm present. Now give me my passing grade so I could leave this corny thing."

Flitwick, quite taken aback said, "Why, Mr. Malfoy. Wouldn't you want to have a little fun? Loosen up a bit, yes?"

Draco just stared at Flitwick, eyes hard.

"You have the grade. Now go and have some fun!" Flitwick cried gaily, turning back to the conversation he'd been having with Professor Sprout.

Satisfied, Draco made for the door, but couldn't get through because of the whole student body trying to cram through it simultaneously. Irritably he sat down in a dark corner, waiting for the entrance to be empty.

Finally, all the students were in and he got up, striding swiftly to the door.

Which slammed in his face.

Furious, he beat his fists against it, yelling for whoever was on the other side to open the door. But, the music that was pounding loudly behind him drowned him out.

He sat back down, his eyes showing emotions that had long been lost as they glittered furiously. Plenty of girls asked him to dance, but he always declined with a cold, "No." and then as an after thought, "Thanks."

Midway through, as a headache developed in his head, pounding to the music, he felt a prickle on his left arm. The prickle swiftly became a jabbing pain, then a burning pain. The Dark Mark!

Panicking, he ran to the doors, pounding on them again. And, surprisingly, they swung open. He all but stumbled into the Entrance Hall, coming to kneel besides one of the suits of armor. The blond ripped his left arm sleeve back, showing the Dark Mark as it seemed to leer at him, burning blackly in his arm.

Pain! Pain as when he had first been Marked! No, he didn't want the pain! Make the pain go away!

Suddenly, a knife was in his hand. He recognized it as the knife his father had given him on the day before he was Marked. Without thinking, he stabbed the knife right into the middle of that grinning skull, trying to carve away the Mark. That Mark that had brought him so much pain, that was bringing him so much pain that he couldn't feel the knife as it went again and again into his flesh.

"Nothing can't be hurt...nothing can't be hurt...nothing can't be hurt..." he started to chant, as the blood poured red down his arm, as the Mark's black lines didn't seem to disappear.

Strong arms grabbed his hand, prying the knife from his hand. The knife flew across the Hall, clattering onto the floor ten feet away.

Draco stared blankly down at his bloodied Mark, still muttering, "Nothing...can't be hurt...I can't...be hurt. I won't...be hurt..."

"Draco."

His head snapped up to look into green piercing eyes, and he began to whimper.

"Nonononono!"

"Draco, stop it."

Draco started rocking on the floor, rocking in his own blood, "Nothing can't be hurt, but Draco can, nothing can't be hurt, but Draco can. Draco can! Draco doesn't want to get hurt!"

He felt himself being lifted, but in the red haze that was his mind he was still on the floor, still...nothing.

A fire crackled, warming his flesh, and he found himself on a comfortable couch. Then, gentle arms drew him into an embrace.

"Shh...Draco." Gentle fingers stroked his hair, soothingly, calming. "I won't hurt you, you won't be hurt, I'll make sure of that." A gentle hand lifted Draco's face, gentle lips came down over his. It was a chaste kiss, lasting no more than a moment.

Staring in wonder at Harry, Draco lifted two fingers to his lips then spoke, "I exist."

_Kissed by his true love, the beautiful prince woke from his eternal sleep.…_


End file.
